


Summer

by assassin_trifecta



Series: The Seasons of William Miles [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Desmond and Connor friendship, Haytham isn't a Templar, M/M, Papaship, still the weirdest ship that I've ever shipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 01:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassin_trifecta/pseuds/assassin_trifecta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though William appreciates Haytham's companionship and assistance within the Brotherhood, sometimes Haytham cannot stand his mentor's methods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer

The ground had hardened, the temperatures rose up to the eighties and nineties, and the crops for the summer had started coming in. The Farm wasn’t that big of an actual farm, but William and his Assassins made due on what they had. There was no real room for complaint, anyway. When living off the grid in a disclosed location far West of a major city in the middle of the wilderness, there wasn’t much they could do for decent food. They had hunters, they had gatherers, they had farmers. But little of that mattered to William. That was another person’s job. His was training Desmond. Training his son.

Today, they were at the lake. More of an uncharted area within the mountains that not many people outside of the Brotherhood really knew about. It was where William taught a number of the younger children how to swim and where Desmond was taking his lessons that day.

The boy burst through the surface of the water, his teeth chattering and his chest heaving with the effort of breathing after so long under water. Fifteen seconds… He could do better than that, William knew.

“Again, Desmond!” the mentor commanded, getting down into the rocky bank of the lake so he could reach out and put his hand on Desmond’s shoulder. “Catch your breath and go under. Don’t come back up until my hand is gone.”

The boy looked up at his father with something in his eyes that was a mix of fear, anger, and hatred, but William didn’t care. What his son thought of him was the least of his worries. Training the boy was more important. Desmond did as he was told either way, catching his breath before taking a deep one in and sinking back below the water, William holding him down.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

A small air bubble escaped from Desmond’s lips but it was too tiny to get rid of any good oxygen.

10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15…

The boy started to thrash around under the water but William held firm. Fifteen was the last limit, he knew that Desmond could surpass it.

20, 21-

“William!”

A shout from behind him drew William’s attention, the familiar voice of Haytham Kenway giving Desmond just the right opportunity to surface again, sputtering and gasping for breath as he shivered harder than before, in cold, still, but with added fear. Behind William, Haytham approached with a glare on his face, Connor scurrying behind him with a towel in his hands.

“William Miles, I thought I would find you out here torturing that poor boy to his death!” Haytham accused, glaring down at his mentor while Connor scurried past the two older men to offer his hand to Desmond who gratefully accepted being pulled up into the warmth of the sun-dried towel that Connor wrapped him up in almost immediately. 

“Have you no shame, man?” Haytham continued, reaching down to yank William up by his collar. “What do you intend to teach him with this, Miles? He’s just a child!”

“He needs to learn!” William spat in response, not paying attention when Connor shuffled the still-shivering Desmond away and to behind Haytham once more. “By the time I was his age I could hold my breath for a minute under water and still have time to spare!” he reached up to pry Haytham’s fingers from his shirt, gripping the man’s wrist tight enough to hurt him. “Now if you would stop defying my training methods, we can all get alo-“

“He is not. You!” The Englishman roared in response, having the audacity to actually punch his mentor, leaving the other man reeling. “Just because you lost your wife does not mean that you can take the pain out on your son, William!” Without really needing to be told, William Miles understood the pain in the undertones of Haytham’s voice, but he could not ignore the ring in his ears or the flare of pain in his jaw. “Training the boy like this will not bring her back, Bill! It is not his fault that she is gone!”

William returned the glare, and a moment later, the punch. He knew where Haytham spoke from, but the sting of his words and the disobedience to the acting mentor’s ways had a shade of red forming behind Bill’s eyes. Haytham staggered back when William’s fist collided with his cheek, but he made no other move against the mentor.

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way.” William snarled. The heat from the sun on his back and the impending threat on Haytham’s friendship with him had the mentor sweating, beads building up on his forehead. “And don’t you ever think you have the right to mention her.”

Haytham could only scowl at his mentor, turning to put his hands on Connor’s and Desmond’s shoulders. “Come on, boys,” he muttered to them, leading them away. “Let’s get Desmond dried off and calmed down.” The Englishman cast one last glance back at the frustrated mentor before continuing on. “Connor, you can continue teaching Desmond how to climb later. I’ll make sure you two are _safe._ ”

Though it may have been his imagination, as William watched his only friend walk away with his son, he swore that he could hear the emphasis on Haytham’s last word, but he knew that he could feel the sting of pain that it brought out from its implied meaning.


End file.
